The port city of Sheran, while not as large as Milagre, still took up a substantial part of the skyline. Lights glittered every few feet, cast onto the street and the dim sky from hanging lanterns alongside the main road. More lights came from within the buildings they could see over the rather short walls, all signs of life stirring within the city.
“This is the trading hub of Tyrman, right?” Eric asked, turning to where Johan walked beside him.
Johan nodded, glancing behind them quickly. “It’s also the second-largest city in the nation and home to all the guild headquarters.”
“Really?” Eric asked interestedly. “I’d think they’d be located in Milagre.”
Johan shook his head now. “The headquarters are too big for Milagre. Also, the need to trade with other countries means they’re better to be located here in Sheran. Most of the land-based section of the city is dedicated to headquarters, trading merchants, and warehouses.”
“Most?” Eric queried. “What else is there to the city?”
“Well, most of the city is on the water, you see. Sheran is home to hundreds of docks, all spread out through the bay. Some people call Sheran ‘the city of ships’ for this reason. As far as actual square mileage on land is concerned, Sheran is rather small. But if you count the docks in the bay, it is massive.”
Eric nodded thoughtfully, mulling that over as they approached the city gates. Just like Milagre, there were a dozen or so guards gathered at the gate. These men stepped forward into the path of the carts, holding up their hands to stop the procession. The sergeant hauled on the reins to stop his horses, and behind him, Max copied the action.
“What be your business in Sheran?” The guard asked. He glanced past the cargo cart to the more luxurious carriage, searching for some heraldry or other sign of identification.
“We are the guard patrol of Master Edward Rainhall,” the sergeant said. “Master Rainhall and his wife come from Milagre to do business with the bank, and secure trading with the incoming fleets.”
The guard nodded slightly at the expectation. It was clearly the answer he’d expected, and a lot of the stiff tension went out of his shoulders. Another guard, higher in rank judging by the insignia on his metal breastplate, stepped forward now. He held a heavy spear in one hand and a small shield in the other. He’d been occupied with another matter, but now drew up to the first cart and gave a courteous nod to the sergeant.
“You’re a little late, Sergeant Moran,” the guard said. “We expected you late last night. What kept you?”
“Just some trouble with brigands, Captain,” The sergeant replied. “We sent them packing, but then it was too late to go through the marshes.”
The Captain nodded several times in agreement. “Any casualties on your end?”
“Nay. Breeden here was injured, but only lightly.”
The Captain turned his head to study Eric as he was mentioned, his eyes flicking up and down his frame, hovering momentarily on the bandage on his shoulder and the sword at his hip. “You’re a new recruit, Breeden?”
“Yes, Captain,” Eric said at once. “It’s a good job.”
“That it is. I know your sergeant from the war, boy. Follow his instructions, and you’ll make it good in your profession.”
“I keep offering for you to join me, Jonathan,” the sergeant said. “You can make more if you work with me.”
“Money’s not everything, Alex,” the Captain said, a slight smirk on his face. It seemed like a familiar argument between the two. “There’s honor, pride, and the prestige of being a member of the Royal Guard.”
“Some honor,” Sergeant Moran scoffed. “They’ve got you out here far from home, watching over the docks. You’re bored out of your own skin, admit it.”
“I admit nothing,” The Captain replied. Then, noticing the fat merchant sticking his head out the window of the carriage, trying to see what was causing the holdup, he gave a short wave. “Go on through, Alex. Stop by on your way out. Mina’s made your favorite meat pies.”
With a flick of the reigns, the horses went on the move again, slowly pulling the two vehicles under the short gate and into the city proper. The main road here wasn’t as wide as Milagre’s, but it was of similar quality, with smooth and even cobbles. Two carts could ride side-by-side in relative comfort. Eric didn’t have to usher people out of the way here, as a sizeable space formed at once, with people moving to the side, giving friendly nods to the passing guards.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“So is there anything interesting to do here?” Eric asked, continuing his earlier conversation with Johan. “Not just drinking, I hope?”
“Well, there’s plenty of drinking wherever you go,” Johan said with a grin. “But there’s also gambling, fighting, food, and whatever you could want. You won’t get bored in Sheran. That’s the point.”
“Hmm,” Eric rubbed his chin with his free hand. “What would you recommend?”
Johan turned to face him, the movement made slow and deliberate. “I suggest you collect your pay, get some good food, then go to sleep. We’ll only be here today and tomorrow, then we return to Milagre. Well, if Moran decides to hire you for the return trip, that is.”
Eric felt a moment of nervousness run through him, and he was worried that, perhaps, his performance on the trip here hadn’t been good, and he’d be dumped without a second thought. Then he caught the faint smirk that Johan was giving him, and realized his leg was being pulled. He rolled his eyes in reply, then quickened his pace, ducking around two men who had crossed the main road carrying large logs over their shoulders.
It didn’t take them long to reach the warehouse that Master Rainhall owned. The warehouse was settled a good way from the docks, as the merchant typically didn’t do much business with the ships that came in. It was also a good deal smaller than its neighbors, as the cargo he dealt in took up very little space.
There were men and women sitting at a table outside the warehouse as they approached, passing the time with cups of coffee and cards. They shot to their feet at once as the two carts appeared, and Eric could clearly make out the sigils on their clothing, marking them as guards employed by the same organization that oversaw trading, Everyone. Eric still hadn’t learned much about this strange group, but if they could afford to hire out guards, they must be well off.
“Welcome to Sheran, Sergeant Moran,” the lead guard, a woman with short black hair said. “You’re late,”
“Out of our control,” Moran replied tersely. “Let’s get this unloaded, then.”
Eric moved to the back of the cart at once to assist, but Johan put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. When he looked back in confusion, Johan pulled him to the side to explain. “We don’t help with this part. Part of this shipment is going straight to Everyone, so only their guards will do this. They will count inventory and profits and take their cut directly. We are not allowed to interfere.”
Shrugging slightly but pleased that he could skip out on the labor this time, Eric moved back to the side of the carriage, pulling out a waterskin and emptying it in go. The water felt like heaven on his lips chapped from the constant sun and heat of the past day. Thankfully, the air was cooler here in Sheran. The sun still beat down on them like normal, but a steady breeze from the ocean dispelled the previously stifling, muggy heat.
The soldiers employed by Everyone worked quickly, even though there were only half a dozen of them. With the lead woman directing, they pulled the cart closer and formed a line, quickly passing parcels and heavy sacks between themselves and stacking them neatly within the warehouse. They sorted and stacked the items so quickly, Eric didn’t even have time to consider what he would with his days off.
As they finished putting away the last of the parcels, another figure approached from behind, coming from the main road. He wore a long black coat over a white tunic, with a white leather belt chased in gold. More gold was worked up the sleeves and shoulders of his outer garment. The sigil for Everyone, a pile of coins next to a pen, was stitched onto the front of his robe.
“Good morning, Collector,” Sergeant Moran said. “Master Rainhall is expecting you.”
The older man nodded, but otherwise did not respond, his eyes fixed on the carriage door. As if waiting for the man’s appearance, the merchant finally opened the door and climbed laboriously out. He wore a wide smile on his face, but Eric couldn’t help but notice how strained it appeared as if he really wasn’t pleased to see the Collector.
“Here you are, sir,” Rainhall said through his smile, handing over several sheets of parchment. “The profits and expenses for this week.”
The Collector took the sheets and read through them quickly, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he skimmed over the figures recorded there. He took a few steps to the side to survey the goods stored in the warehouse, then made eye contact with the woman leading the other guards. She gave a brief nod as if to say there had been no problems, and he returned the gesture.
“Very well,” he said in a smooth, even tone. “Your fee will be one hundred, eighty-four gold, 17 silver, and 5 coppers.”
Eric frowned slightly in confusion. He’d spent enough time in Ahya to know that ten silver coins were equal to a gold coin, or ‘royal’. Why hadn’t the Collector just rounded up to the nearest full coin? Rainhall didn’t seem to question the demand, however, and already had a sack of coins waiting. He reached back inside the carriage now to retrieve it, and hand it over. The Collector weighed it in his hands for a moment, looking focused once more. A slight frown crossed his face.
“You are eight silvers and 4 coppers over,” he said after a short pause, without even looking in the sack. He fished the coins out then and put them in Rainhall’s hand. “Very well, our business here is finished. Good day.”
The Collector turned on his heel and strolled away holding the large sack of coins, quickly followed by the guards, who moved to form a protective circle around him. Eric watched them go until they were out of sight, then shook his head in bewilderment, turning his head to Johan.
“Not a very friendly fellow, him,” he said with a slight chuckle. “It’s a little early in the day to be so cranky, isn’t it?”
Johan shot him a warning look. “He is a busy man. The Collectors are in charge of all fees and fines and making sure that money is transferred to where it needs to go. It is hard work.”
“Also,” he stepped in close, dropping his voice so that only Eric could hear him. “Master Rainhall has shorted them in the past, so they do not look forward to dealing with him.”
“That’s enough,” Sergeant Moran interrupted them. “We need to get Master Rainhall to the bank and then his office. Once that is done, you will have all day to chatter idly. Let’s go.”